


I'm Not Afraid To Save My Heart For You

by hazandboo_write



Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazandboo_write/pseuds/hazandboo_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they grow up together, mostly (excuse me please, i wrote this a year ago)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Afraid To Save My Heart For You

It was on Harry’s 12th birthday that he first met Louis. It was a cold day, but the skies weren’t snowy and the wind didn’t burn. Harry and his sister, Gemma, sat at an old, paint-chipped picnic bench, gossiping. Harry had weaved Gemma’s pretty brown hair into two big plates, and Gemma had dabbed at Harry’s knee with a tissue when he scraped it on the side of the bench. 

They were a close pair, Gemma and Harry, and the fierce protectiveness they felt over one another was clear. Anne, the Styles children’s mother, was a lovely lady with a bright smile and shining eyes. The kids loved Anne with all their hearts, and she knew it, but she also knew that the bond between her only two children was something she would never fully understand. And so, she let them go to parks by themselves, and didn’t ask questions when they came home from the mall with bags of clothes and candies or returned from seeing a movie with big grins on their faces and popcorn crumbs on their shirtsleeves. Anne was an intelligent lady, and she understood her kids well. However, there was something she wasn’t be told, she knew this. And as much as she pestered Gemma, her daughter would just shake her head and say, “Not my secret to tell, Mum.”

When Harry had woken up the morning of his 12th birthday, he had sighed happily and tumbled out of bed and into the shower. He took his time picking out an outfit (a nice black polo with colourful stripes on the pocket, and long-legged jeans), and clambered downstairs. His mother and sister greeted him at the table with freshly-made pancakes and shiny helium balloons.

“Mum, I like boys,” he had said as he slid into his chair.

Anne placed a dish in front of her son, meeting his sister’s eyes over his head. Gemma had looked on at her brother with wonder and pride, and smiled slightly guiltily at her mother, shrugging. Anne turned back to her baby boy, carding a thin-fingered hand through his unruly curls. “That makes three of us, love. Happy birthday, Harry.”

Harry hadn’t been nervous to tell his mother. He’d been confiding in Gemma for quite some time, and he trusted his mother. He had simple woken up that morning feeling sluggish and happy and fuzzy and truthful. 

Their day went on as Anne had promised her son. A trip to the bakery was followed by a footie game, where, much to Harry’s surprise, his three best mates had met up with him and given him big gifts and bigger hugs. Harry got pink cotton candy stuck in his hair, and his friends laughed at him, but then Niall ripped out a chunk of the fluffy stuff, removed a piece of hair from its top layer, and ate it. Everyone chorused, “Ew, Niall,” and it was kind of amazing that Harry got to spend some time with his friends on his birthday. It was after Harry’s second shower of the day that Gemma had decided she wanted to take Harry to the park. They hadn’t had a good old sibling session in about a week, Gemma had reminded him. They bundled up and left.

And so Harry sat, fingernails picking at the paint on the table top, across from his older sister. When Gemma pointed to something behind Harry, she had whispered, “Oh, Harry, don’t look now but my is that boy fit.” And so naturally 12 year-old Harry had turned around not-so-subtly, grinning. The boy was fit, just as his sister had promised. He was all tan and sweaty in his football uniform, and his light brown hair fell into his blue eyes. When the boy made eye contact with Harry, he smile warmly and waved slightly.

Harry, a tiny bit overjoyed to be running across such a beautiful boy on his birthday, waved grandly. Gemma coughed a bit when she realized the boy was approaching them. Harry could not tell if she was trying to stifle a laugh, or trying to stifle discomfort, so he turned back around the check and she was beaming like an idiot. Harry winked back, making his older sister laugh.

“Hi, there. Don’t mean to be weird or anything, but I think I was sitting behind you at that ManU game a coupla hours ago. You’re the kid with the birthday today, yeah? Heard your friends singing and all that.” Harry turned around slowly. This boy had recognized him from earlier? Harry felt a flash of guilt for not remembering him, but hey. It was his birthday. He was distracted.

“Uh, yeah! I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m Harry,” Harry murmured.

The boy nodded, and smiled with his big blue eyes. “Probably a long shot, but do you want to maybe kick a ball around? I’m a bit early to practice, and I’ve just ran here so now I’m kinda pumped. You can play too,” he said, directing the latter bit towards Gemma. “Sorry, hi! I’m Louis, nice to meet both of you!”

Gemma smiled and shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just play cheerleader,” she said, winking at Harry. Harry blushed furiously and bounced off the bench.

“I’d love to,” he said to Louis.

*

Harry fell into rhythms quite easily. And Harry and Louis’ relationship sort of became just that. For years, the boys ran off to play footie together, went to crappy house parties lacking sufficient amounts of alcohol, and told each other practically everything. Louis would sometimes teach him new things, like how to smoke a cigarette, and Harry would sometimes kiss Louis’ head after he had fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder.

When Louis left for university in London, Harry cried like a baby. He kissed Louis flat on the mouth real quick, right as the doors of the train were starting to close, and he had sat in the passenger side of the car, shaking, as his mother drove him home.

Months went by, and the boys talked non-stop on the phone or over video chat. However, this didn’t last, and Harry had known it wouldn’t. By Christmas of that year, phone calls had trickled down to once, maybe twice a week. By summertime, Harry wasn’t surprised when Louis sent him an email, informing him that the older boy would be staying in London on internship while his classes were out.

By the fall, about a year after Louis had left, Harry had starting going out with his friends again. Zayn no longer needed to pocket Harry’s phone to stop him from checking for messages from Louis. Liam had started to get Harry back into playing footie with him and Niall on Sundays. 

But when Christmas time came around again, Harry locked himself in his room on the 24th and cried. He picked up the phone and called Louis and they talked for hours and by the end Harry could almost breath again.

When Harry got a phone call just before school was out, he was shocked to see it was from Louis. The older boy’s family had moved back to Doncaster after Louis had gone off to uni, and therefore Louis hadn’t found any reason to come back to Cheshire one single time in the past two years. Harry tried not to let this break his heart, because Anne just kept telling him, “He’s grown up, honey. He just needs time to adjust and live a little. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” And because Harry knew he was a weeper, he chose not to get angry that Louis had forgotten him, and instead went along with his mother’s sentiments.

Nonetheless, when Louis was calling Harry, the younger was going to pick up. He’d always pick up if Louis called him. That was never going to change. Harry would always love Louis.

“Hi,” Harry said, breathily.

“Harry,” Louis responded with a sigh. “Oh my god, Harry. How are you?” Louis voice was deeper now, a bit scratchy almost, but Harry still got those same butterflies as he always had at the sound.

“I’ve missed you, Lou,” he said instead.

“God, Harry. The past two years have been crazy, you know? I mean, there’s like a whole other world outside of Cheshire and Doncaster and all that. God, I’ve missed you though.”

Harry laughed quietly, but his heart was hurting quite a lot. “You’re only in London, Lou,” he replied softly.

“I need to come visit you, Harry. I need my best friend back.”

Harry was silent. Louis’ words had physically hurt him, as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe in like two weeks and three days, maybe?” Harry heard something that almost sounded like choking on the other line. 

“Yeah, yeah of course! Why then, exactly?” A distant beeping of a car horn sounded, followed by a soft swear from Louis.

“That’s when I move to London, actually,” Harry said, clearing his throat slightly. “For university. Uni College London, actually.” There was a bit of silence.

“Harry,” Louis whined. “My Hazza, in London? Oh god, Harry, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Harry sighed quietly. “I dunno. I guess I just thought… I mean, like. We’re on different pages now, Lou. You’re on a different page now. You’ve moved on.” Harry sat on the edge of his bed, kicking aside a full box of clothes. He leaned back, laying down.

“Harry,” Louis whined again. “Harry, I love you, you know that? You’re still my best friend. I’m sorry I’ve been real shit to you.”

“I miss you, Lou. I’ll see you in 17 days? Pick me up from the station at four thirty?” And then Harry hung up with a massive, self-pitying sigh.

*

Final goodbyes weren’t too hard. Harry could handle it. Harry had already had to say goodbye to the two most important people in his life, Gemma and Lou. And both of those people now lived in the city Harry was moving to. Niall was only a couple of hours away, going back to Ireland. Liam was headed to New York City, and rather than getting depressed about the distance, Harry saw it as an excuse to see the States some more. And then there was Zayn, who’d be attending uni with him in London. Harry could handle it.

Harry cried when he was saying goodbye to his Mum. Not because he was afraid to move out. London was hardly a treck from Cheshire by train, especially since they had the money to ride one of the nicer trains. Harry simply wasn’t keen on leaving his mum, his third best friend, alone. Of course, Anne had Robin, so she wasn’t really alone, and this is how Harry convinced himself he could go. Their parting was tearful, and full of hugs and kisses, but when Harry boarded the London-bound train alone, he knew he’d be okay.

*

It was just like old times, and this made Harry’s blood pound fast. Louis sat across from him with his chocolate milkshake, and Harry sat with his vanilla. They switched drinks in silence every few minutes, just looking at each other. When it was time to go, Harry grabbed Louis hand, surprised to realize it felt just the same, and he squeezed real tight.

The two walked hand in hand, wordless, down the city streets. Louis helped Harry and the doorman tote his belongings upstairs, and together the two of them, Haz and Lou, unpacked. Harry trusted Louis would know where to put things so that Harry could find them. He knew Louis would know. It took a bit longer than expected to finish building the large bed, and at about nine o’clock that night, they slumped down on Harry’s bed with delivered pizza and Love, Actually playing on Harry’s laptop.

Harry fell asleep entwined with Louis that night.

When he woke up the next morning, Louis’ lips were pressed to his forehead. He smiled, eyes still closed, and hummed in response to whatever Louis was telling him. He got up about twenty minutes later, showering and dressing in a thin tee-shirt and jeans. When he padded out into the little kitchen, Louis was on his tiptoes, trying to put away a bowl. A strip of tan belly was exposed, and Louis’ glasses sat askew on his nose. Harry sighed internally, imagining Louis as a permanent fixture in his crappy little apartment. He cleared his throat and Louis turned around, smiling widely.

Harry walked up to him and put his arms around Louis’ waste. Louis’ head perfectly tucked into Harry’s shoulder, and the younger boy could feel Louis’ breathing on his neck. “You’re so tall now,” Louis laughed lightly.

“Hi,” Harry said back. “I love you.”

Harry felt Louis’ warm kiss on his neck. “Missed you too, Haz.”

“Said I love you, not that I missed you!” Harry said, voice wavering.

“God, I love you,” Louis mumbled back. “God, I just freaking love you. I’m really glad we’re back, you know? I’ve missed us.”

Louis’ hand found the back of Harry’s neck and he ran his fingers through Harry’s curls. “I’ve missed us, too,” Harry replied.


End file.
